


bad with birds and bodies

by lielking



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, alternate universe- kazuaki doesn't die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-19 12:06:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lielking/pseuds/lielking
Summary: How could he do this?How could his only friend do this to him?Please. Someone… help.Hitori was really bad at identifying dead bodies.Hitori was really bad at disguising dead bodies.





	1. Start

**Author's Note:**

> How could he do this?  
> How could his only friend do this to him?  
> Please. Someone… help.
> 
> Hitori was really bad at identifying dead bodies.  
> Hitori was really bad at disguising dead bodies.
> 
> -  
> Written in present tense in present tense scenes, past tense for past tense scenes, and third person throughout. Only told through Hitori and Kazuaki's POV.

**Start**

When Kazuaki woke up, aching, hair dyed black and black contacts in, he started to cry. He didn’t know what was happening, at first. He didn’t know that he was supposed to be Hitori, or why his eyes were so itchy, or why he was in so much pain.

He didn’t understand anything.

When he tried to breathe, he inhaled ashes and smoke.

When he tried to stand up, his legs crumpled underneath him. He fell into an awkward kneel and vomited, narrowly avoiding hitting his hands. His throat was burning.

He sat back down and sobbed. He was surrounded by rubble and ash- was this hell? Was this his punishment for killing himself? He curled in on himself, even though all of his limbs hurt, and repeated his mantra. “I want to die, I want to die, I want to die, I want to die, I want to die,” until he couldn’t talk anymore. He rubbed his voice rawer and sobbed afterwards. He sobbed until he ran out of tears, and sat in silence heaving after that.

After he couldn’t heave anymore, he laid down on the ground.

That’s when he noticed what he was wearing. His clothes were burnt, of course, but they weren’t _his_. They were Hitori’s.

Hitori’s scarf. Hitori’s jacket. He was wearing them- not Hitori.

A very bad picture started to form in Kazuaki’s mind. A very bad picture painted by a very, very bad, mean, awful, traitorous man. Hitori was bad. Hitori was bad and a liar, and Kazuaki was stupid for trusting him.

Kazuaki started to cry again.

He wasn’t dead, then. He wasn’t even good enough at suicide- though his multiple previous failed attempts should’ve proven that to him long ago. It was supposed to be foolproof, anyway. Hitori set this one up. Hitori. The smart, perfect, cool man that dragged Kazuaki out of his hole.

And pushed him right back down into it.

Kazuaki should’ve known. He should’ve known that no one would be friends with _him_. Especially not someone like Hitori. Hitori was smart, and brave, and strong- that’s why he left Kazuaki.

Kazuaki brought his hands to his face and cried into them, ignoring how much his tears burned his palms. His hands must’ve been skinned, then. Hitori was right. The world was better off without Kazuaki in it. The world _would_ be better off without him in it, anyway.

Hitori must not have given him enough pills to finish him off. He must’ve misjudged the amount. Kazuaki sat up. Hitori… was so smart, though. He was so _good_ at math. He said he was studying it, in college.

That may have been a lie, too.

Kazuaki wiped his face.

Something was burning in his chest- other than the ash in his lungs. He felt… something other than sadness, or the happiness Hitori brought him.

He felt _betrayed_. Hitori was supposed to be like him.

Hitori hated the world too.

Hitori said that people like Kazuaki were _ruining_ the world.

Kazuaki frowned. He bit back a different kind of tears and forced himself to stand up. He stumbled over to a wall nearby and collapsed against it.

Stairs.

There were stairs, dusty and looking like they might just collapse, but… there. And leading up to somewhere other than this burned down dump.

Kazuaki pulled himself into a stand.

Hitori was really bad at identifying dead bodies.

Hitori was really bad at disguising dead bodies. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be up once a week, at the least, sooner if I finish them sooner. No clue how long it'll end up being, but it looks like it won't be short. Leave a comment or a kudos; thanks for reading!


	2. Replace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A knock at the door. Hitori tenses up as soon as it registers.   
> Kazuaki didn’t have any friends. Or, at least, anyone he would’ve given his address to.

**Replace**

Hitori had forgotten how boring school was. Going to school, at least. Teaching was fun enough.

He’s struggling to stay awake in philosophy. The class is pointless. Unfortunately, the late Kazuaki was majoring in  _ literature _ , so Hitori is stuck in his old classes until he can figure out how to switch majors. 

After a few more minutes of pointless rambling, the professor dismisses the class. Students around Hitori start packing up, so he figures he should do the same. He stuffs his notebook into his bag and walks to the door. He is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Nanaki! Haven’t seen you in class in a  _ while _ \- how’ve you been?”

Oh. 

Hitori turns around and smiles nervously, rubbing at his hair. It feels like straw from all the bleach. “Oh! U-uh, not super… uh, bad! Just, going through some stuff for- for a while, there. Hahaa, uh- how’ve you been?” 

God, Kazuaki’s stupid bumbling way of talking is a bother to attempt to speak in. Hopefully, Hitori can ease out of it and convince people that he’s just getting more confident. 

The student looks surprised. He retracts his hand and laughs nervously. “I’ve been fine! Just worried about you, y’know! You were always- uh, always really reclusive, so it’s nice to see that you’re doing better!” 

Kazuaki had said that everyone around him  _ hated  _ him in school.

Another delusion of his, then. 

“You got, like, super tan while you were out- you get a lot of sun?”

Of course he’d comment on that. Kazuaki was way paler than Hitori. He had a different face, too, but they were eerily similar enough to match at a glance. Hitori looked like a more brown Kazuaki. Even the eyes were easy enough to correct with cheap contacts. It’s been quite a while since anyone’s seen Kazuaki, anyway.

“Y-yeah!” Hitori stutters out. He attempts a wavering smile. “Never been too good at remembering sunscreen…”

The student frowns and shrugs. He sticks his hands in his pockets and awkwardly…  _ wiggles _ . What is his  _ deal _ ? “Well, uh… some of my friends and me were planning on, uh, grabbing some  _ coffeee,  _ if you- maybe, just, like- maybe wanted to join us?”

Oh. That would be his deal, then. Hitori laughs and looks down. He swallows before looking up and plasters an apologetic look on his face. “Uh- some other time, maybe! I’ve- uh- got a lot of homework, uh- tonight. Homework! Haha, in 1401…” Hitori trails off at the end there, licking his lips. He’s edging towards the door now.

“Oh. Uh, some other time, then!” the student says. He looks to the floor and gulps before raising a hand in farewell and walking away. 

Hitori flees from the classroom in the opposite direction. He’s out of the building and in Kazuaki’s car before anyone else can talk to him, and in Kazuaki’s apartment before he can register that he may have ran a few red lights. 

He throws Kazuaki’s keys and wallet across the hall and deflates against the door. It’s been at least a week, but it still almost smells like-  _ decay _ . Hitori drags his hands down his face and massages his temples with them. “Right,” he says. “It’s only until you get your master’s.”

Kazuaki wanted to teach English, before he almost dropped out. He recited poetry all the time. He read a lot, too. All of his books are dusty now.

Hitori’s got at least five years ahead of him. He pulls his own wallet from his jacket pocket and tears out Nageki’s picture. He runs a thumb across it. Gulps.

He pushes it away from his face before a tear can land on it. After a few minutes of staring into Nageki’s eyes, Hitori pockets the photo and wallet again. It’ll be ok. 

He’ll make it up, eventually. Hopefully he doesn’t get impatient waiting for Hitori to finish the job-

A knock at the door. Hitori tenses up as soon as it registers. 

Kazuaki didn’t have any friends. Or, at least, anyone he would’ve given his address to. Hitori hasn’t ordered anything. 

Hitori pushes himself to his feet at the insistence of another knock. He reaches over to open the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update's a day late bc my beta was busy! Sorry about that.


End file.
